Harshe Crie
by Rominee
Summary: Harshe Crie is coming into her 5th year but she excels her grade, so taking part with some of the 7th year classes (Harry has now come into his 7th year)... She has secrets hidden and dark shadows clouding her... The end may have a twist that is unexpecte


HP Fanfic.  
  
Prologue.  
  
A dream.  
  
The rumbling heads of dark cloud hung menacingly over a rather dilapidating little cottage. Harshe's first instinct was to leave the little home alone, not to disturb what may lay hidden inside, but her curiosity got the better of her and she found her feet walking towards the door. Pushing it back on its hinges, Harshe stepped into the dusty entrance and followed it until she saw a flicker of light from the right of her. She squeaked a hello, but no one answered. She pushed the door open slightly and saw a woman lying on a rug in front of a roaring fire. Harshe tried to see her face, but it was hidden by the shadows cast on the outer edges by the flames. Her legs were  
spread and her breath came in huge gasps. Her brown hair fell in wet  
strands to her elbows, which she was propped up on. The woman was in labour, alone in the middle of the woods, in a cottage that could fall in on their heads at any moment. The woman hollered in pain and Harshe felt her body move towards her, but before she reached her a man sprinted from across the room and passed straight through her. Harshe gasped as her body seemed to swirl back together, forming her two halves into one again. The man didn't notice anything and instead kneeled next to the woman and asked her, "Are you alright darling?" The woman nodded. Suddenly the sound of a large mob outside thrummed through the thinning walls. Both of the people  
looked up, the mans face clearly frightened. "Quickly darling, quickly, then we can apparate and leave them behind." The woman began to breath frantically. The man's back obscured Harshe's sight  
but soon enough a squalling sound pierced the night and he sat down,  
holding an infant in his arms.  
"It's a girl."  
The door opened and Harshe twirled to see cloaked figures moving effortlessly towards the couple on the ground. As the man bundled the baby  
and handed her over to the mother, an icy voice touched her.  
"Ah. so you planned to escape?" The man twisted around to see who had  
spoken. "Naughty, naughty. silly child. You should have stayed in my  
service, a 'promotion' was due to come your way soon. but now." A green light pierced the man squarely in the chest. Almost instantly he doubled over, but not before a blood curdling screech emitted from his throat. The woman screamed, drowning Harshe's own voice. The cloaked leader levitated  
the child from the mother's arms. "And what do we have here? A pure child?" The woman stretched her arms for the child. The figure barked a laugh and taunted the woman, moving the baby just above her reach. He flicked his wand and the child began to drop to the ground from the height of the ceiling. She stopped mere inches from the  
ground. Harshe looked surprised at her own wand in her hand, but then a distinct figure moved forward. The mother rushed forward and cradled the  
child in her arms.  
"Playing with children was never one of your little knacks. You should leave the child to its mother," Dumbledore's voice rumbled across to the ring leader. The leader turned quickly and a red light shot from his wand.  
Dumbledore easily deflected it. Dumbledore shot his own light. The dark figures moving towards the mother and child shied away from it. A circle had formed as Harshe had looked on. Again Dumbledore shot the light from his wand, and it erupted more brilliantly then before, causing Harshe to lift her arms to cover her eyes. When she lowered them only the ring leader remained in the middle. He growled viciously. Swiftly he moved behind the  
woman and yanked her hair, forcing her head backwards. "You know Dumbledore. you really don't suit being a father, you just never  
seem to be there when they need you the most." He pulled a blunt object from his pocket. He flicked it and a knife sat up obediently. "Even though I despise the muggle race, I find these inventions rather marvellous. Don't you?" He traced the point down the woman's round cheek, and a thin line of  
red showed. "Stop it now Tom, while you can still stand. Tonight I'll let you leave if  
you'll let Eilan go."  
"I rather enjoy this don't you?" He had traced down her other cheek. Dumbledore moved towards them quickly. Before he reached her though, Tom  
had slit her neck and the blood flowed freely onto her shirt.  
"The blade though has been enchanted to never let a wound be healed and never let the victim be dead until the last drop of blood leaves her body, and as I made this enchantment myself, none know the counter charm. So now watch your precious girl slowly disintegrate before your eyes as her life  
flow is drained from her. I saved this curse especially for you Dumbledore." Tom apparated from the room. Dumbledore turned back to see his daughter crumble to the ground, still clutching the child in her arms. His legs folded beneath him as he reached her, unable to hold him standing any more. He held her head on his lap. He waved his wand and they rode through  
time. At the end a picture grew larger, St Mungo's reception desk. He slowly appeared, each particle of him, his daughter and his grand-daughter gently moving to the right body. As soon as they appeared, a squat doctor waddled over to them. His nose was blunt and round, and his ears stuck out  
from his head, a dense thatch of white growing from the depths. "I've placed a freeze charm on her. but I don't whether it will slow it. I know death is inevitable. but just to give her and you time. please save her. she shouldn't have been there. he shouldn't have come after her of all  
people. why?" Dumbledore had now lost his composure. The doctor spoke softly, patting his old friends shoulder, "I'll see what I can do my old friend. now get yourself up off the floor, and help me bring your child to my ward." But as they went to lift Eilan from the floor, the bundled infant awoke and gurgled, looking up into the two wrinkled faces looking down at  
her.  
"Who's this Albus?" Dumbledore looked down at the infant and lifted her  
into his arms.  
"It's Eilan's child." "Daddy." Dumbledore's attention was drawn from the baby by the simper of his daughter. The doctor created a stretcher and levitated Eilan onto it. "Let's get her to the ward." The two men walked quickly through the teeming wizards and witches. 


End file.
